The Assignment
by shinrai
Summary: vi:curious is posted.we live in a world inhabited by the hunter and the hunted. when the two meets, love should never be in the way.sxs
1. Prologue

The Assignment  
  
Shinrai  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: CCS belongs to CLAMP. It doesn't belong to me. Don't sue.  
  
Author's Notes: Lot's of OOC, specially on Syaoran's part. If you think he's mean in the series (not that I mind), he's a whole lot meaner here. And this is AU so don't expect Kero-chan to pop around any second. And though I completely adore Yue, he's not in this fic either. I've had this fic written at the back of my notebook and I decided to post this much to my friend, rei-chan's, encouragement. R&R  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
In a dark alleyway that was nearly swallowed by the night were two men. One kneeled. The other stood. One prayed for his life's redemption. The other held life's judgment in his hands.  
  
The older man, the kneeling man, pleaded with the younger one to spare him. His eyes misting with anxiety and fear. Sweat framed his thin scraggly face as he tried to stop the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. His hands were held together in front of him like saints do when in fervent prayer. Each breath becoming hoarser and shorter as he shook at the touch of the gun on his forehead.  
  
His scared pleading eyes were met by blank, hollow ones. That of the young man's. He stood looking down at his prey in blank amusement. And unlike the older man, the hand holding the Lugger was eerily calm.  
  
Another shaking victim…another pleading eyes…another pious prayer…  
  
The young man mused to himself. He lingered at the last thought. It was fascinating how man turns instantly pious at the face of death. A man could spend his whole life ignoring Divine Mercy yet pleads for God's grace and pity when death confronts them with all virtuousness.  
  
It disgusted him in a way. But it only adds up to his convictions. A reason to clear the earth of treacherous, lying bastards. In other words, another reason to kill.  
  
He looked at the eyes of the older man. It wasn't the first time he was faced with eyes like this. Pleading eyes. Scared eyes. Haunted eyes. The eyes in the face of death. Lord knows how many times he has faced this state. This wasn't the first, and this definitely won't be the last.  
  
His lips curved into a small smile at his prey, his young face almost seraphic. He saw the hope building up in the iris of the older man. And just as he must have thought he was spared, he pulled the trigger.  
  
One eerie sound.  
  
Then follows the silence.  
  
The young man looked down on the ground. His victim sprawled lying facedown bathing in his own blood. No emotion reflected on his face.  
  
Another body…  
  
He replaced his gun in the holster hidden under his coat and left without looking back.  
  
Another job done…  
  
Tomorrow he'd be collecting his full payment. The price of killing. Basically the price of one's life. He couldn't argue since the price of life is always well-paid.  
  
He quietly slipped out of the alleyway and melted into the throng of late night shoppers. None of them knew that no hundred meters away from them was a freshly killed son of a bitch. And that the murderer was in their midst.  
  
This was his life.  
  
A damned life, yes. But it pays good.  
  
  
  
to be continued  
  
A.N.: Ayt. Review but be nice. (Loads a Desert Eagle with bullets and polishes it adoringly.) 


	2. Save You

Disclaimer: I do not own CCS. Do not sue.  
  
A.N.: This is definitely a short chapter but it's all good...i hope.  
  
Things clear up a little in this chapter. i was thinking of not continuing,  
  
no one out there is reading me...*sniff*...but it's okay, i got two encouraging  
  
readers, and one encouraging friend. so this chapter would go out for midnightoasis,  
  
figaro, and rei-chan.  
  
The Assignment  
  
shinrai  
  
Chapter 1: Save You  
  
  
  
Kinomoto Sakura gunned the engine of her car and grabbed her books. She gave her hair an unconscious brush as she stepped out into the college parking lot filled with students bathed under the glaring light.  
  
"Sakura!"  
  
She heard an awfully familiar voice calling her name. She scanned the area looking for the owner of the voice and found her bestfriend, Daidouji Tomoyo, waving at her. She made her way towards Tomoyo who was standing on the other side of the street. The street that separated the grounds from the parking lot.  
  
She was halfway into crossing when she was caught aware of a car coming towards her. She tried to run but the speeding car was nearing her fast.  
  
Sakura froze. The four-wheel drive was coming onto her like a bullet train. Every second passing made the collision nearer and nearer.  
  
And all she could do was stand, fear-infested, and completely frozen.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Amber eyes followed the oblivious Sakura as she got out of her car. The young assasin melted among the throng of students making him completely unnoticed. And nearly invincible.  
  
He watched the brown-haired girl scan the crowd in complete fascination. Her emerald eyes moving around the premise with slight interest. He was captivated by the way her small lips curved into a small smile when she found her friend waving at her. the way the soft tendrils of her hair framed her face. The way her chee-  
  
He frowned to himself. this wasn't the time to antagonize over the most mundane of things. The first rule of hired-killers were to never-NEVER-get involved with subjects. The way this Kinomoto Sakura fascinated him was a sin in his field of work.  
  
He lives up to his name.  
  
A little wolf.  
  
Small.  
  
Sly.  
  
Precise.  
  
His new assignment wasn't going to be the mar to ruin his career.  
  
Still frowning slightly, he followed the auburn-haired girl quietly. Suddenly, his ears prickled at the sound of rubber grounding on asphalt. His eyes darted to see an oncoming car speeding at about a hundred. it was fast, alright. And it was coming straight towards a dumbstruck Sakura.  
  
Reflexes instantly on alert, he moved with utmost precision towards the young girl.  
  
The car was only fifteen meters away.  
  
If he didn't get to Sakura on time, she'd most definitely suffer injuries- if she doesn't die first.  
  
Eight meters.  
  
He was only a few meters away. But at this rate, getting to Sakura on time was next to impossible. That was okay, though. Next to impossible was his specialty.  
  
Four meters.  
  
Ground zero. It's either he save her, or they both die.  
  
Two meters.  
  
He grabbed the still frozen Sakura by the waist and darted towards the other side of the street. But the dynamics of the circumstances made him land on top of the girl.  
  
His eyes burned at the sight of the cherry blossom so near him, nearl intoxicating him with the scent of her. It was a pity this lively angel's life would end up in such a waste in his hands.  
  
Amber locked with emerald. He searched her sould through her eyes with mounting intensity. He saw her fear. Then her relief. Then her confusion. And last, her wonder.  
  
Such a pity.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Sakura blinked back at the eyes of the stranger who have just saved her. Amber eyes. Light brown and penny colored. The exact shade of dried leave in autumn. Not too brow, not too gold. She continued to stare back unabashed. Completely immune to their ignominious position. His eyes scanned her face, from her forehead, to her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips...he lingered a little on her lips before staring back into her eyes. His face was completely devoid of any emotion. No trace of fear from the early ordeal can be found on it. No mask of relief. But his eyes spoke of...pity?  
  
She couldn't tell.  
  
"Sakura-chan! Daijobou desu ka?"  
  
She heard someone call her name from somewhere distant.  
  
"Sakura-chan!"  
  
The voice seemed nearer. She reluctantly tore her eyes away from the penetrating gaze of the young stranger.  
  
"Daijobou desu ka?"  
  
Tomoyo sat beside her idle form, eyeing her and the stranger atop her. Realization sank in and she felt her face flush. She hadn't been mindful enough to notice their state. And hadn't been mindful enough to notice the small crowd that had assembled around them.  
  
'Bullshit.'  
  
The amber-eyed boy rolled off her and held out his hand to help her, his eyes never leaving her face. She felt drawn to him. More impulses than than senses, she took his hand. He helped her on her feet, his sight not once straying. Her face felt warm from the attention and she forced herself to look away. Her gaze fell on the hand he continued to hold in his. She blushed a deeper shade of red.  
  
Sakura abruptly took her hand, "Go-gomen."  
  
He didn't say anything. The man simply continued to look at her unfazed.  
  
The green-eyed lass groped for something to say, "Umm...I...uh..you saved my life," she managed to choke out and bowed in respect, "Arigato Gozaimasu."  
  
Sakura waited for him to acknowledge her thanks, btu the dark-haired boy continued to stand motionless before her.  
  
'Is he deaf?'  
  
Just as she thought he must have been deaf and mute, and was about to resort to a lame sign language of 'Thank You', he spoke. His voice calm, even, and as sparingly emotionless as his facade.  
  
"Next time, watch where you're gong."  
  
With only that, he left.  
  
  
  
to be continued  
  
  
  
A.N.: Just that. nothing more for now. I'm going back to school in a week and i feel like hell. Review. Please. For the love of God! 


	3. Chemistry

The Assignment shinrai  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own CCS. I'm poor, penniless, and rotten dependent. You wouldn't want to sue me. Author's Notes: I don't know why i keep on updating. I could just remove this fic, but then, i can't bear not to finish this since there's only about a few things i start doing and end up finishing. Despite the fact that i procrastinate, i will finish this. Dang philosophy.  
  
+++  
  
Chapter II:  
  
Syaoran clicked on the file marked 'Kinomoto' and in seconds, a picture of the young girl he saved that day appeared before him. He scrolled down the screen to review her profile.  
  
Name: Kinomoto Sakura Age: 18 Height: 5'6" Hair color: Brown Eye color: Green Course: Mass Communications major in Media Relations Organizations: Cheerleading Club, Track and Field Varsity, Theater Club Residence: Room #312, Juumonji Hall, University Dorm Relations: Father: Kinomoto Fujitaka, Archeology Professor Mother: Kinomoto Nadeshiko, deceased Sibling(s): kinomoto Touya, brother, engineer Others: Daidouji Tomoyo, room mate -- Mission: Terminate Cause of Mission: Threathen the professor  
  
Syaoran scanned the remaining text, which includes Sakura's class schedule for this term. It wasn't an unusual assignment. Someone wants someone else killed and they hire him. He doesn't usually care if the death was justifiable or not. That wasn't his problem. But it gives him pleasure in knowing if his victim was well-worth the bullet he'd instill in their veins. But either way, he couldn't care less. What matters is he lives. In this world, living is a rat race. Nothing else matters but survival. If you live, too bad. If you die, too sad.  
  
But Kinomoto Sakura's profile made him wonder. Why threathen the archeology professor? What does he have? Or what does he know? If it was only to threathen, why not just injure the girl? And why not the brother? Or the professor himself?  
  
He rubbed his chin with his thumb as he contemplted the questions forming in his mind. Suddenly, the hairs on his nape began to rise. He turned to the intruder as he aimed his gun.  
  
Hiirigizawa Eriol lifted a corner of his mouth as he leaned against the door panel crossed-armed, "I see you're after another paycheck."  
  
Syaoran didn't put his Lugger down, "I told you repeatedly not to meddle in my affairs."  
  
The dark-haired boy shrugged, "she was in my way."  
  
"She's my assignment," the amber-eyed assassin continued.  
  
Eriol held both palms up feigning surrender, "I'm not messing. I just happened to pass by with my reliable race machine when she crossed the street. It's not my fault she decided to stand in the middle of the road like a maypole," he grinned, "besdies, you should be thanking me. I made you a hero."  
  
"You blew my cover," he replaced the gun back into its holster as he turned back to his laptop.  
  
"Then you should have left her to die in my 'accident,'" the spectacled boy said, "I could have saved you the trouble."  
  
Syaoran eyed his companion pointedly, "she's MY assignment. If she dies, it's because of me."  
  
"No problem," Eriol answered sinking down on Syaoran's bed, "She's all yours."  
  
Syaoran scrolled the the screen up to Sakura's picture. He remembered the brief moment he spent reveling in her prescence. Too short, too soon. But on that moment, he had her. Beknownst to her, she was already his. All his.  
  
+++  
  
Amber eyes. Piercing, beautiful, amber eyes.  
  
Sakura couldn't erase the memory of the strange man's eyes from her reverie. It was the most beautiful pair of eyes she's ever seen in her entire life. He must probably be the most beautiful man she's ever laid eyes on. And if she weren't so lucky, he even saved her.  
  
But he was still a stranger. He left her without so much as a stoic scolding and a cold shoulder. He didn't even acknowledge her. Didn't even bother to introduce himself. He came as a stranger and left as a stranger.  
  
"Still thinking about your anonymous hero who dropped you like a hot potato?"  
  
She turned to see her best friend, Tomoyo, fresh out of shpwer in her pyjamas towelling her hair.  
  
"Yeah," she sighed, "i don't know if i should put him under 'Gentleman' or 'Jackass,'" she said forlornly levering her arms out like a scale.  
  
Tomoyo plopped down on her bed and thought for a moment, "it was really nice of him to save you like that. But it was also really rude of him to leave you like that."  
  
"That's what i thought," Sakura chewed her lip contemplatively, "I wonder if i'll ever see him again."  
  
"Who knows," Tomoyo shrugged as she wrapped the towel around her head like a turban, "you just might."  
  
+++  
  
Sakura hates math. She always have and always will hate math. She also hates any other subject in relation or has any mathematics. That was why she hated Chemistry.  
  
She sighed as she checked the room written in her form.  
  
Room 218. Science building.  
  
It was a big wonder to her why liberal arts students like her had to take math-related subjects. The reason why she took Mass Communications was to avoid math. And yet, here she is, attending a Chemistry orientation. She sighed once again as she entered the classroom and went to the back part to sit.  
  
"Sakura-chan!"  
  
She turned to see her childhood friend, Naoko walking towards her, "Naoko-chan!" she gave her long-time friend a hug as she invited her to sit beside her, "Is this your class too?"  
  
Naoko nodded, "But I'm taking up Comparative Literature, how about you?"  
  
The two talked animatedly for a few minutes until their professor came in. A tall, built man, apparently young, wearing glasses and sassy oxfords, introduced himself, "I'm Motoki Shinji. I'll be teaching you Chemistry for this term."  
  
Motoki-sensei discussed the general out view of their subject and passed papers around to test the students' knowledge on the branch of science.  
  
Sakura had been too caught on what she had to do in the subject that she didn't notice the latecomer who took the seat behind hers.  
  
"Please pass this to the new one behind, Kinomoto," Motoki-sensei said handing out a paper.  
  
Sakura took the paper the girl in front of her handed her and turned to the student behind her, "Here you-" the rest of her sentence died on her lips.  
  
She'd never mistake this face. The hair. Those lips. That nose. Those eyes.  
  
Seated behind her was the man she had been hoping to see again. The man who saved her.  
  
+++  
  
Syaoran hid a smile behind his cold façade. He couldn't help but revel in the look of shock masking the Kinomoto's face. Shock was actually an understatement. She was so taken aback by his sudden appearance that she couldn't even contain her reaction.  
  
"Kinomoto," Sakura's head snapped towards the sensei's general direction, "Is there something wrong?"  
  
The auburn-haired girl shook her head furiously, "Iie," a light blush tinting her cheeks.  
  
He let the smile escape his lips knowing she has no way of seeing it. Kinomoto Sakura was getting more and more fascinating to him. He almost regretted having to go through his plan. Almost. Since killing her would be so much of a challenge to him now. And that was what he liked most. A challenge. And his assignment was proving to be one amusing challenge.  
  
Syaoran went through the questionnaire languidly, purposely committing errors on some questions so as to raise questions about his academic standing. Chemistry was one of his favorite subjects. It was one of the few things that fascinates him. He liked having to solve a complicated problem. To know the core of an object. To make something better out of one small particle or molecule.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Kinomoto girl's stiff back, trying to look calm. But it was evident that she was distressed. The way her shoulders heaved was sign enough of stress. She didn't know what stress he was bringing into her life. Not that there was any life to be left in her in the end.  
  
Their sensei spoke, "that's all the introduction you'll need. You may pass your papers when you're done and I'll see you in our next class."  
  
He finished his work and walked towards the sensei, all the while feeling his assignment's eyes fixed on him. Subtlety was the key. Let the Kinomoto girl come after him. He could never be blamed for coming after her. He placed his paper on the sensei's desk, gave him a curt nod, and be the first to leave the room.  
  
+++to be continued+++  
  
shinrai: dang, that took some time to do. Rai: it's raining cats and dogs outside, should've given you enough time to do this. Shinrai: I'm not bionic. Rai: never said you were. Shinrai: sometimes I wonder if you were ever created to piss me off at a large scale. Rai: larger than you can think. Shinrai: enough! I'm encouraging reviews. Rai: I am not. 


	4. Crush

The Assignment

Disclaimer: I do not own CCS. Characters mentioned below were used without permission. I am not earning anything from this. Do not sue.

Author's Notes: I went on practically a month of hiatus. Why am I reviving this dying fic then? Because I am being pestered by my muse to continue writing, aside from a couple of incessant demands.  _Tell me/did you fall for a shooting star/one without a permanent scar/and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there…_ doesn't have anything to do with the succeeding fic. I just felt like singing.

III: Crush

            Dropping on the seat across Tomoyo's, Sakura turned a compressed face to her best friend, "I saw him."

            Tomoyo sipped on her iced tea, looking at the girl opposite her through the brim of her glass, "The Emperor of Japan?"

            "No," the auburn-haired girl responded impatiently, "The guy who saved me."

            "Oh…him," Tomoyo drawled out every word as if saying she should have known then added, "Where?"

            "We have the same Chemistry class."

            "Chemistry…"

            "Yes," Sakura said exasperation evident in her voice, "Don't even remind me that I'm bad at Chemistry."

            Tomoyo shrugged as she attempted to cheer up her friend, "Well, you never know who among the two of you would need more tutoring or the same remedial class."

            Sakura let out a snort, "He's not bad at Chemistry, alright.  Motoki-sensei gave us an assessment test and he seemed to have so much liking to his paper, because he separated it from the rest.  And I found out later that he got a ninety-three percent average.  How's that for smart?"

            Tomoyo whistled, "Drop-dead gorgeous, charm, wit, stamina, nice reflexes, a natural-born hero, and now a genius.  Is there anything this guy can't do?"

            Sakura shook her head forlornly.  The amber-eyed boy continued to plague her mind.  She couldn't understand why she had such an unexplainable magnetism to him.  He had never shown her any amount of concern, yet she still craved to be by his presence.  What was it that he had?  She gazed back at Tomoyo, who was looking at her expectantly, "What?"

            "So, did you get to talk to him?"

            She shook her head again.  He didn't even give her a glimmer of recognition. 

            "No improvement?" Tomoyo asked, a bit incredulous.

            She bit her lower lip, "I did get his name."

            "How?"

            Sakura smiled sheepishly, "The paper."

            "So, who's the knight in shinning ego?" Tomoyo asked.

            Sakura laughed at her friend's rather cryptic remark, "Li Syaoran."

            Tomoyo appeared to be thinking for a moment before she took another sip from her glass and shrugged, "At least he's not a perfect stranger anymore."

+++

            "Components of Biochemistry," Sakura muttered to herself as she walked down the science section of the campus library.  She held the small piece of paper that enlisted a number of books Tomoyo gave her to research from for her Chemistry class.  She never made her way through this section before, she doesn't even like libraries, but she wanted to make a good impression. 

            She turned to an aisle marked 'Biochemistry' and ran her fingers through the books lined up in their cases.  Two thoughts intruded her cause. 

            'This is stupid.'  Why should she even bother impressing a guy who never gave her anything more than a haughty look?  She deserves better, doesn't she?

            The second thought was more disturbing.  'The color amber.'  Why does his vision plague her so much?  The simple notion of envisioning his eyes staring at her with abandon can drive her to the point of near madness.  What was it about him that compels her to be so drawn to him? 

            She finally saw the hardcover book she was looking for.  It was on the topmost shelf, but if she would try and reach, she might get it.  She extended her arms, but it was still too short.  She finally decided to step on the lower shelf.  The book was about two inches thick, and hardbound.  She groped for the edge of the cover before she lost her balance and tumbled from the bookcase.  But instead of feeling the sharp pain of hitting her head, her head fell back on something strong, but gentle at the same time.  And somehow, she had the unsettling feeling that she had felt this before.  Two hands steadied her arms, and ever slowly, turned her around to face her savior.

            "It's you," she breathed out quietly.

            "Again."

            She stared again at the eyes she has long wanted to see.  These were the eyes she had imagined for days and dreamed for nights.  She was beginning to feel herself drowning, and just before the last fibers of control deserted her, she edged away.

            "You…uhm…you saved me again."

            He didn't answer her.  Just as before, he simply continued staring at her.  His penetrating gaze never leaving her form despite the shadows that the place displayed.  She could feel his stare probing through her, as if looking for her soul.  No conversation had ever satiated her before as this short, and nearly empty, exchange did now.  

            She swallowed a lump that she hadn't known to have formed in her throat, "Can I offer you coffee, or anything, to thank you…"

            He continued staring at her.  Doubting he had heard she opened her mouth to repeat her offer.

            "I can't."

            She shrank back as her mouth formed an oval.  He probably really wasn't interested.

            "I have class."

            She bit her lower lip to keep herself from smiling. But before she could offer him a rain check, he started to walk away, leaving her with another scolding.

            "I'll see you in Chemistry."

            She didn't have the chance to answer back, because he was already gone.  Again.

+++

            Tomoyo watched as her friend stared forlornly at her reflection against the mirror.  She dropped the magazine she was reading after sighing, "What's wrong?"

            "Am I unlikable?"

            A dark eyebrow arched above a purple eye.  Sakura was normally a decently confident person.  When she starts mentioning doplines of insecurities, it can only mean one thing.  She has seen the remarkably peculiar Li Syaoran, "You saw him again?"

            Sakura rolled her eyes, "He saved me again."

            She stood up with this news, "Whoa, hold up, sweetheart.  What do you mean by 'again'?"

            Sakura related to her the unforeseen incident in the library.  And she was left wondering.  The guy striked her as a little odd.  He seemed to be detatching himself from everything else.  Although he wasn't the strangest person she has encountered, he was definitely mysterious.  And the fact that he always seemed to be there when her friend needed help, was even stranger than he himself.  

            Who was this guy?  And what was it about him that his mysteriousness seems to be pulling her friend to him even more?  

            Sakura still wore a dejected look on her face.  She went towards her friend and embraced her, "Maybe you're trying too much.  You know, you don't really need to try hard to get someone to care about you.  If he does, it will show.  It will all fall into place."

            Sakura smiled at her.  That was the most caring words she could extend right now.  And she hated watching her friend crumbling.  But she will find a way to make Li Syaoran fall for her friend.  

+++

            Thoughts were the demons of his mind.  Continous, shameless thoughts that have been plaguing him since the start if his assignment.  He refused to be a victim of his own thoughts, but he couldn't stop himself from being a slave for it.  No amount of control can hinder a working mind on its course.  Like water, it will flow continously, seeping through gaps and spaces.  He was absolutely certain his thoughts were his demons.

            He unlocked his door as he quietly groped for a way to stop his mind from plaguing him with visions of a pair of expressive emerald eyes.  Emeralds he wouldn't like to steal but dive into.  Where he would gladly succumb to being lost.  But like a hard-headed bitch, his mind refused to be ruled when it was desperately being ordered to.  It was a mistake to stare too long into her eyes.  When he started to stare, he couldn't quite get himself to stop.

            He kicked the door close while he took off his jacket unnerved.  Not a crease of confusion marked his face.  But his eyes hinted a frenzied mind and a dazed reverie.  Damn it to all seven hells!

            "Deep in thought?"

            He turned abruptly towards the speaker, one hand poised, ready to aim his gun.

            Eriol sat on a stool by the corner, facing the window.  He wasn't wearing his usual knowing smile.  Instead, he actually look apprehensive and, surprisingly, worried.

            "Sort-of," He replied as he eased his hold on the pistol, "What are you doing here?"

            Eriol nodded his head towards the table where a short black envelope was resting.  Syaoran knew what it was, "Short message."

            A black envelope contained an order to assasinate.  But unlike a wired message, it was an impromptu assignment.  It usually requires an assasin to eliminate subject within 48 hours.  

            He walked towards the desk and peeled open the envelope.  His eyes scanned the contents.  It was normal message.  A person, a picture, a place, a time, a setting, and a request to make it look like an accident or an assasination.  This one wanted an accident in broad daylight.  He nodded slightly and placed the paper back in the envelope, before he went to turn on the paper shredder.

            Just as he was filling the information into the machine, he realized, Eriol was still there, "What are you still doing here?"

            "You used your real name in the Kinomoto assignment."  He replied blankly.

            He didn't say anything.  The last thing he needed was Eriol confusing him even more.

            "Maybe, you have forgotten the last time you used your real name on an assignment."

            He didn't say anything.  He really wouldn't want to talk about it. And Eriol didn't have a right of any sort to meddle into his affairs.

            "You know what happened then, don't you?  She was-"

            "I can still remember." Syaoran replied shortly, abruptly stopping his apprentice.

            Eriol stared at him for a while before he stood up and stretched his legs, "You're an assasin, Li.  Don't let your emotions get in the way."  With that he left Syaoran contemplating, and broken.

+++to be continued+++

Rai: What happened when Syaoran last used his real name on an assignment?  Pester me to update faster so you'll know.  The next chapter will be a flashback in Syaoran's point of view.  Hmm…curios, curios.  History of an assasin, eh?  It will be bloody though. Before you leave, hold your mouse and move the pointer to the one that says 'go'.  Do it. Now.^-^


	5. Retrospection I: Sunset

**Disclaimer:** Rai disowns any rights to CCS.  Characters mentioned below were used without permission.  She dislikes receiving notices about lawsuits, so don't even try.

**Rai:** Pardon for the long delay.  I encountered so many mishaps that I somehow feel this fic must be jinxed.  But it's here for the taking.  The whole chapter is written in Syaoran's point of view.  This fic is AU so OOC should be expected.  Here he is a son who worships his mother.  Quite different from what we perceive of him as a son afraid of his mother (re: CCS first movie).  I kinda like the idea…  And also, since this chapter is longer than what I usually write, I decided to divide it into two parts.  The next part will be posted when I finish editing.  I'm still tired from frying my brain, so I apologize for any errors on this script.  I'm not perfect. I wasn't meant to be, so please be lenient.

**Warning:** Succeeding chapter contains violence and profanity not suitable for minors.  Please be a responsible reader.

**Rai:** Okay, let's get morbid…

-

**The Assignment**

**IV: Retrospection I: Sunset**

-

            Shaded by the late afternoon sun, I watched the room being enveloped in the color of sunset.  A glowing red-orange light.  Similar to the one that blanketed my home's par lour in that afternoon.  That fateful day when I last heard Okaasan's voice.  

            I can still hear her calling my name.  The soft voice of an empowered woman in the prime of her life.  Her voice in my mind is the only remnant of the past that I hold onto.  Everything else I let go.  But my mother's voice is my comforting haunt.

            Born to one of the most powerful and influential clans that existed in Hong Kong, I lived a life of privilege.   Not only was I a member of the Clan Li, I was the heir apparent.  The future Clan Leader. The memories are blurred now.  But sometimes, when I listen hard to the voice I treasure in my mind, everything comes back to me in precise clarity.  So clear that I can almost smell my Okaasan's perfume, a scent distinctly hers that there has been no other woman I know who smells the same.  Then I'd feel the warmth emitting from the hearth in our par lour.  And slowly, everything that died becomes alive in my mind.  My sisters would be guffawing at some little pest they took home.  The maids would be serving tea.  My mother would sip the warm liquid, delicately enfolding the teacup's handle within her soft fingers.  Wei, the butler, would deliver the day's news.  Members of the Clan Li would be scattered around the estate.  So many of them that I couldn't even put the names to the faces.  It would be eight years ago.  I was ten.  The little wolf that my name defined.  Young and untamed.  Strong but still innocent.

            My life then was splendid, to say the least.  But as I have come to understand, nothing good lasts long enough in this lifetime.

            Granted that our Clan was influential, we had our share of enemies.  Many of them overcome by their own greed and an insatiable lust for power, which we had.  Remembering them only infuriate me so that I crave for the sight of their blood streaming down a paved street into the gutter.  Small satisfaction for my pursuit for revenge.  

            The memories are beginning to collect again.  We were in the par lour.  My mother was sipping her tea, as always, and watching me as I performed my katana drills.  Wei was instructing me the proper movements from the sidelines.  This was what we did everyday before dinner.  Evaluate my training.

            Light was slowly filtering itself to darkness.  The bright red-orange glow seeping through the windows and scattering light in the room.  I remember being reminded of a burning shack by the striking color. I couldn't have known it then, but it must have been a presage of the events to come.  I dismissed the thought, although the way the light glistened the sharp edges of my katana fascinated me.

            Just as I was finishing my exercise, I heard a shrill scream erupt from somewhere within the manor.  A scream that up to now, when I remember it, terrified me.  For it always brings back that night, and the haunted nights after that where my nightmares would always begin with that scream.  I stopped midway into my exercise as a maid rushed into the par lour without knocking, breathless.

            "Shu Lei," my mother stood upon recognizing the woman, "what's the matter?"

            "Mistress," she was catching her breath and her eyes spoke volumes of unspoken fear, "an ambush…"

            "Ambush?" my mother repeated, trying to calm the frantic servant.

            "The window…" she waved her hands wildly towards the large framed glass.

            Distinctly, I heard something erupt that broke glass into a million shards.

            My mother turned to look at the window and her expression turned from confusion to bewilderment.  I slowly turned my head towards the direction of her vision, and when I did, instant regret overtook me.  For what I saw framed by the glass window was not a picturesque sunset but something that will haunt me for the rest of my living days.

            Confusion must have deafened me because I did not get to hear the gunshots that littered the estate.  Men, seemingly hundreds of them, in stocking masks, were opening fire in our lawn killing every Clan member in sight.  Not even sparing the servants.  One of them walked towards an uncle lying in a pool of his own blood.  I felt like I could almost hear him snigger behind his mask as he watched my kin slowly filter himself to the arms of death.  He aimed his gun at the helpless man and pulled the trigger twice more.

            Screams of anguish filtered the once peaceful silence of the grounds.  I heard more gunshots being fired and more breaking glass.  Every window I turned to showed more murder than the last.  Blood was staining almost every soil.  And more men in stocking masks with guns killing my family mercilessly.   And my young mind was frozen in shock.

            "They have surrounded the estate, Mistress," Shu Lei cried, "and they're looking for Xiaolang-sama.  You must escape now." The note of plea was resonant in her voice.

            Black smoke rose to the sky from the east wing of the manor.  These men were burning the estate.

            My mother grabbed me by the arm and half-dragged me towards the bookcase.  She pulled out a book before enveloping me in her arms, "Whatever happens, Xiaolang, you must live," she breathed deeply on my hair, "Live for the Clan."

            I hadn't noticed the passage that opened behind the bookcase.  She kissed me on the forehead before she pushed me into the entry.

            "This passage exits to the harbor," I saw a small tear run down her cheek before she closed the opening, "Go," she commanded, "Live."

            I tried to reach for her but the bookcase closed between us.  I heard Shu Lei scream behind it and more gunshots being fired.  Only this time, they were nearer.

            "Where is the heir apparent?" an unfamiliar brusque voice asked demandingly.

            "He is not here."

            _Okaasan._  She wants to save me.  But I wanted to save her.

"You bitch should know better than to lie."

            A resounding slap and a thud on the marbled floor.  I gritted my teeth.  If I only knew how to come out of the passage to kill that bastard.  Every vein in my body pulsed with throbbing rage.

            "Best tell where your son is, woman," the voice continued, "before I decide to really hurt you."

            I sought for a lever on the wall that separated me from the par lour rasping savagely to the unknown miscreant who dared disrespect my mother.  But there wasn't any.  I later found out that the passage was a one-way entry.  My attempts were all in vain.

            "I would rather die than give my son to you."

            I stopped groping when I heard this.

            "Then die it is."

            A gunshot.

            "Okaasan."

            Another gunshot.

            "Iie."

            And another gunshot.

            I stared wildly at the wall almost seeing my mother through it, lying on the marble, bleeding to her death.  And here I was, on the other side, helpless.

            _'Go.'_

            My mother's voice came back to me.

_            'Live.'_

            My mother was dead.

_            'Live for the Clan.'_

            The Clan was dead.

_            'Whatever happens Xiaolang, you must live.'_

            I could almost smell the scent of burning wood from the other side of the bookcase. Wiping the tears that fell inadvertently from my eyes, I stared gravely at the wall that separated me from my family.  The wall that saved me.  God damned wall.

            "I will avenge you," I turned and walked in trance towards the exit.  It was on that moment that my innocence left me.

-

            I exited to the harbor as my mother had said.  The sky still glowed with the same color.  I turned towards the direction I came from.  And there, where the Li Estate should have been was a billowing bonfire.  The manor nothing more than ruins and ashes.  Everything I loved and adored burned with the sky.

-

            I wandered the days after that.  No one knew I continued to live.  No one reportedly survived the ambush.  And no one knew whom to blame.  All of our enemies expressed their phony grief through the media.  But jus as soon as they expressed their grief, they all went scampering to bid for the estate's remains.  Scavengers.

            No one knew I survived.  Everyone believed I died with the rest of my family. If not with a gunshot, through the fire.  No one was held accountable.  The massacre of The Clan remained a mystery since.

            From having a Clan, I became an orphan.  With no family and no home.  The Clan was my life.  Without them, I was lost.

-

            I found a job as busboy in a small eatery by the harbor.  It was owned by an old couple who couldn't afford to pay a busboy with the minimum wage.  I offered to work at half the price and they accepted on the condition that I do not tell the police I was a laborer.  I had no intention to.

            During the first nights, I slept on the harbor.  But the old couple must have known that I do not have an acceptable living place because they offered to let me sleep in the eatery when it closes a few days after I was employed.  I never appreciated the value of a roof over my head before then.  And I will never forget the nights I spent sleeping in the cold harbor with nothing but the crisp air to blanket me.

            I was still plotting my revenge.  And nothing fed my hunger more than the memory of my mother's voice.  But I wasn't getting anywhere with my job as a busboy.  I sought to continue my training.  Unfortunately, with the state I was in, no one would take me in to train.  I hardly have enough money to provide for myself, much more to train.  I have obviously lost everything.  The power, the influence, the respect, the estate, The Clan…

            I considered revealing my identity when I got desperate.  But I knew it would only hinder my plans.  I was next to being hopeless when I met the one who would forever change my life.

            Everyone calls him Akira-sensei.  A Japanese dignitary and highly distinguished in Hong Kong.  He used to be a professor in Japan.  I have heard of him even before the massacre, but I have never met him.

            One morning at the eatery, while bussing tables, a group of men came in.  most of them wearing suits and carried themselves in a dignified manner.  This wasn't the usual crowd the eatery services, but customer was customer as long as they were paying.

            Short-handed as we were, I sometimes not only bus tables but serve as a waiter as well.  I considered this an act of gratitude for the kindly couple.  At that moment, tere wasn't anyone else who could take their orders so I took the notepad and pencil from the counter and went towards the table of men.

            "May I take your order, sirs?"

            "A pot of tea," a young man in a gray suit answered amidst the banter.

            "Anything else?"

            That was when the sensei turned his gaze towards me.  for a split-second, I thought I saw his eyes flicker with the glint of recognition.  But then, the next moment it was gone.

            He smiled at me, "And a plate of dumplings, please."

            I bowed at them and handed out their order to the elderly woman.  As I walked, I could feel the sensei's gaze following me.  Mindful of my every step.  I became aware of the sensei's presence.   And as I cleaned tables, I found myself being enamored by the men's conversation.  There wasn't much to it, actually.  A common male bonding session.   But what fascinated me was the sensei's seemingly lack of response.  At side glances, I could see him smiling or nodding every now and then.  But not once did I hear him speak his mind.

            Finally, they took their leave.  The men stood up and left a sum of bills on the table.  When they went out, I started to clean their table for customers yet to come.  As I stacked the teacups on the tray, I noticed a small parcel on one of the seats.  The seat was supposedly the sensei's.  And given this, I figured it might be his.  Thinking that they hadn't gone off far yet, I picked up the package and went after the men.

            Just as I opened the door hurrying, I saw the sensei walking back towards the eatery.  He must have seen me with the package because he stopped short.  Not wanting him to get the wrong idea, I went up to him and handed him what he left, explaining that I intended to come after his group.

             He smiled at me, "Few men possess the virtue of honesty."

            I took this as a sign of gratitude so I bowed and was about to return to the eatery when he continued to speak.

            "You seem to have been taught well for practicing it," he added, "your parents must be proud of you."

            I couldn't resist letting out a snort.

            He creased his forehead, his face asking the question his mouth never spoke.

            "I'll never know of it."

            "Aren't your parents the couple who owns the eatery?"

            My face must have contorted such a violent reaction.

            "I suppose they're too old, but what parent would allow their child to labor without their guidance?"

            "Not my mother." I answered, quite vehemently.

            "I'm sorry if I offended you.  I suppose your mother must have a good reason to allow you-"

            "My mother's dead." I cut him off flatly.

            His eyes took a sad note to it, "I'm sorry."  Strange how his eyes could look sorrowfully at me without hinting even a glimmer of pity.  As if he truly felt sad about my loss.  I realized then that it was the first act of condolence extended to me ever since the massacre.

            "To loss a mother at such a young age.  You couldn't be older than twelve."

            "Ten."

            I began to turn to leave, but his words stopped me again.

            "Are your guardians suitable?" 

            I shrugged at this.  I had no guardian.  The elderly couple was just my employer.

            "The elderly couple is treating you well?"

            I looked at him pointedly, "They've been kinder than most people."

            He sighed slightly before he reached into his coat.  He withdrew from this a small card and handed it to me saying, "I have to attend business for the rest of the day, but I wish to be able to speak to you again.  I hope you can contact me some time."

            I stared at the card. A simple cream card that read: _'Kagero Akira, Japanese Embassy.'  _And address situated midtown and a phone number.  I looked up to question the sensei, but he had walked some distance off already, carrying his package.  I thought of running after him, but decided against it.  Besides, I still had work to do.

            I walked back to the eatery debating whether to call the sensei or not.  I eventually would.  Little did I know then that the simple exchange I had with the sensei would forever change my life.  For it was that meeting that would initiate a series of events that would make me the man that I am today – an assassin.

-to be continued-

**Rai:** I just need to edit retrospection ii. I'm not going to say what the second part's title is.  You might get ideas. Best to keep it a secret.  I do hope you people will review even though I haven't offered any update for two months. [eep]  By the way, Toasting Marshmallows is a Christmas fic you might want to check out to revive your holiday spirit. 


	6. Retrospection II:Rubies

**Disclaimer:**  CCS is not mine.  I disclaim any rights to it.  Characters were used in this fiction without permission from the owner or from whomever. 

**Rai:** eep…I know… I know…(ducks from a flying banana peel) gawd. People have gotten tired of throwing tomatoes? (ducks from an unidentified crap) Man, give me a break! (ducks from raw dressed chicken) Fine!  I'm sorry…woah! (ducks from a potted cactus) The second part's here! (Throws manuscript over to crowd.)  When things get too violent next time, I'm never gonna update. Whoa! (ducks from a PC speaker)

**Warning:** Succeeding chapter contains violence.  As I said, please be a responsible reader. Don't go around carrying Luggers and daggers, ayt?

**Rai:** (ducks from a PC.  Loud crash from behind.) **whistles**

-

**The Assignment**

**IV: Retrospection ii: Rubies**

-

            How far would you go to fulfill a vow?

It's strange how a broken soul can be so vulnerable.  How one can find solace in everything.  Even the one that defies the soul's convictions.  I wonder a lot about that.  I wonder if the massacre hadn't happened, would I have had a different life?  I will never know the answer to that.

Akira-sensei gave me a chance to keep my vow.  I called him four days after our first meeting and he sent me over to his apartment downtown.  His place was a penthouse suite in one of the premier residential areas in all of Hong Kong.  Entering the lobby, I distinctly remembered that this kind of architecture had been inferior to the masterful design of the manor.  But the manor was now nothing more than a pile of rubbish that littered what has been the Clan's estate.

The elevator stopped on the top most floor and I stepped into the small hallway that displayed a huge oak door with brass knockers.  After one last struggle to not be overcome by my own pride and turn back, I lifted my hand to knock.

A burly man wearing a suit opened the door.  A bodyguard.  I found it ironic that I had one of these men around me just a few months ago.  And now one of them was looking at me with contempt trying to mock me of my own miserable state.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for Kagero Akira," I said and added, "he sent for me."

The bodyguard looked me over in one spiteful glance and asked, "Your name?"

"Syaoran."

"Wait here," he said shortly before he closed the door between us.  A minute later he returned and escorted me into the sensei's study.  

The sensei greeted me with a warm smile, "I was expecting you.  I hope Jhang hadn't been overzealous."

"Not really," I chose not to pursue it.  

He offered me a drink and asked, "How is your work?"

"Okay."

"And the elderly couple?"

"Okay."

"And your salary is…?"

"Okay."

"The business?"

"Why did you send for me?"

The sensei stopped and smiled as he handed me a glass of juice.  He looked at me for a while before deciding to answer, "If you must know the truth, you fascinate me."

"How so?"

He walked towards the other couch, his footsteps barely audible on the plush carpeting.  He sat opposite me, "You remind me of a young boy I've heard of.  You must have heard of him too because you actually have the same name.  I've never met him but he was supposed to be one of the country's future leaders."

He knew about me.  I can see it, but I refused to admit the truth to him.  It will foil my plans and ruin everything that hasn't even begun yet.  Instead I asked, "What happened to him," my voice had reduced to a faint croak.

"He was killed," the sensei looked straight at me, "him and his family."

Killed.  My family, yes.  But not me.  I heard my mother's voice again.  Pleading.  Corrupting my mind of its sense of control.  That short statement brought back everything I have vowed to avenge, and the realization that I have never truly grieved for my loss.  Grounding my fingers on the cold glass, I sought to redeem restraint.  Then the sensei's voice broke into my distress.

"Syaoran," he called.

My head snapped towards his general direction.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded.  Not trusting my voice to justify my response.

Akira-sensei lay back on the seat and stared at me.  I, meanwhile, restrained myself.  He asked me another question that sent me into another turmoil, "His name's Li Syaoran.  Do you know him?"

I have not yet learned the etiquette of lying then so it would be understandable to say that my forehead was matted with sweat.  I could feel myself shaking.  More from the memory of who I was than anything else.  _Who I was_.  Because I was definitely not that person anymore.  Li Syaoran was born with power and wealth.  I was but a mere busboy.  Another entity.  Another being struggling to survive.  It was with the sensei's simple inquiries that I realized how pathetically inferior I had become.  How pathetically inferior I will forever be.  

The sensei now stood before me.  He was a good man.  But I wasn't sure if a good man was worth trusting.  

He asked me again, "Do you know him?"

This time, I decided to respond.  If I will ever regret answering the sensei, that day has yet to come, "I am him."

-

The sensei adopted me.  Since then, I carried the name Kagero and refused to use Syaoran any longer.  Except for that one assignment…

Akira-sensei funded my education.  But this education was not the typical kind.  He had instructed me well before enrolling me.  Explaining everything that I was going to learn and going to become.  He left it my choice to make.  And I obliged.  

Joining the Institution had been the only chance for escape that I had.  Although the sensei adopted me, I never intended to use his name for my plans.  The Institution sheltered me and bred me to become one of its finest slayers.  

I was turning eleven when I joined the Institute.  Four more years and lives would be judged in my hands.  It was in the Institute that I met Eriol.  We were roommates and more or less friends.  Sometimes the rival, and sometimes, the accomplice.  

In this sort-of mafia, I grew.  This institution that sheltered and trained hired killers of the world.  This community that served to me the only survival that I have.  At a young age I trained and realized the dark reality of living.  Ever since the massacre, I had robbed myself of the gaiety and delights of childhood.  Joining the Institute, I killed every sense of life in me.  What I have was the will to survive.  Survive and avenge.

The last thought was the one that drove me most to do this.  Retribution.  This voracious thirst for revenge.  Something even justice could not suffice.

-

On the surface, the Institute is a high-end prep school.  Licensed to educate students to become future leaders.  Four of our alumni are world leaders.  All of them, of course, were also trained assassins.

I was fourteen when I was handed my first short message.  Similar to what I just fed the paper shredder.*  The assignment was for me and Eriol.  And the order was given to execute subject by means of an 'accident.'  Lacking barbarity then, Eriol and I posed as mechanics and rigged his breaks.  His Alfa Romeo ended in a ditch.  He, in a morgue.  The death was declared an accident with no sign of foul play.  The assignment was executed perfectly.

After years of doing short messages, with and without Eriol, I was sent a wired message.  A wired message required a surveillance of at least ten days until order to execute comes.  These assignments usually entails a lot more risks.  That's why I was fairly disappointed when I found out that my first wired message was a girl.

Name: Xi Meilin

Age: 16**

Height: 5'4"

Hair: Black

Eyes: Red

Residence: 

Relations: Orphaned

Employment:  Massage Parlor

Position: Masseuse

            Trail assignment until ordered, was the note attached.  Same with the Kinomoto.  

            I went to the massage parlor the same night with Eriol.

            Pushing the double glass doors open he told me, "You, my friend, are a lucky man."

            "Why?"

            "You get the best assignments."

            "I don't see how this could be the best," my idea of best was something that requires a great deal of challenge.  Or one that gives me the liscence to assassinate my Clan's murderers.

            "You get paid to go after girls," he replied, "while I have to kill old men with lots of money."

            Eriol was referring to his last assignment.  A shipping tycoon who was about ready to die, anyway.  He screwed a fifty million dollar contract and drove his partner to near-bankruptcy.  The legitimacy of the contract was still suspicious and the deal could only be reclaimed before the tycoon places it under his list of assets.  The deal was back with the client and Eriol's shipping tycoon laid to rest after suffering from 'heart burn.'

            I would have preferred that kind of assignment to this.  What would the Institue's client want with this Meilin woman?  What did she owe him or her?  

            We approached the two women attending the lobby.  Behind her was the company's name in a silver plate bannering the legality of this prostitution house.  Eriol laid down his credit card and smiled at the lady.  His charm has yet to fail him, or me, when needed.  The attendant was openly flirtatious and escorted us to the viewing area.  Chinese massage parlors in Hong Kong are popular for these viewing areas.  Customers choose their masseuse from the bikini-clad women behind the sliding doors that attendants open with great flourish.  

            It wasn't new to us, but we pretended to be amazed when the girls were finally presented.  My eyes moved as I searched for my assignment.  And I found her somewhere along the left side of the cluster.  There she was.  Little miss prick.  She wasn't bad looking.  Quite frankly, she looked good.  There seemed to be something strangely familiar about her that I couldn't quite put a finger on.  I must have been staring too hard because she was suddenly shifting in her seat.  

            Eriol nudged me and said maliciously, "You seem to be so taken with that pretty little one with the ruby eyes.  Why don't you take her?"

            I could deck this man.  Instead, I gave an air of nonchalance and replied, "Sure."

            -

            I was sitting in a coffee shop two days later, waiting for her.  To her, this was a date.  To me, this was surveillance.  I would have to stick to my first description of her.  She is a little prick.  But a charming one.

            Chimes resounded as I looked up from my paper.  She entered the place with the grace of a butterfly.  Her hair tied in a long braid and shades on her eyes.  I would have to admit that she's pretty.  And there has been something about her that made me want to protect her.  A real irony if you consider the fact that I'm supposed to kill her.  She looked around the place and smiled as she saw me.  Her steps were gaily yet feminine.  Something told me that she must have had breeding.  Something not common with women in her line of work.  

            Sliding in the seat before me, she greeted me and placed the book she carried on the table.  _Anna Karenina_, I noted, by Leo Tolstoy.  

            "That's quite a heavy read," I said.

            She arched one perfectly lined eyebrow at me, "You've read it?"

            I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

            She took the action as a yes, "I like it.  The character's very tragic but she seems to me a strong woman."

            Perceptive.  I didn't expect her to be this educated.  Rarely would I see people who enjoyed reading.  And definitely not in the class she was in.  I found her smart for someone her age and sophisticated for someone her class.

            "I think it's a very feminine novel.  Love, lust, romance, drama," I raised my cup of coffee to my lips, "something women enjoy."

            "Let me guess," she pursed her lips contemplatively, "you prefer Mario Puzo and you have seen The Godfather."

            "What makes you say that?"

            "Every man seems to have seen The Godfather," she replied ruefully, "Mafia, sex, murder, money…" she smiled sardonically, "something men enjoy."

            "Why are you reading that?" I asked.  Trying to elude the biting remark about murder and money.

            She shrugged, "I'm never without a book.  It's one of the few things that has helped me forget."

            "Forget what?"

            She looked at me clearly trying to weigh her trust and finally shook her head, "The world, I guess.  And everything in and beyond it."

            I stared at her.  I now new what fascinated me.  What that something was that made her stand out.  She reminded me of someone I should have been.  She obviously had an agonizing past.  And her escape had been surviving the tide on her own.  Whatever pain she felt, revenge was clearly not something she considered.  

            Which was something different from me.  She marveled me.  Her spontaneity and her zest for life despite the fact that she lived on the rotten end of it.  What she had was something I lacked.  Her life was living.  And my life was killing.  

            I took her out again after that.  Three times in the same week.  And three more times the week after that.  Like a moth, I was attracted to the fire she carried.  The fire she lived.  And although I appear before her as someone indifferent, within me I see her as the only person who managed to see the part of me that I buried along with the ashes of my family.  

            Three weeks after I met her, I found a follow-up message from the Institute.  The order to assassinate had come.

-

            Turmoil was the word that described how I felt.  I had committed a sin to my work.  I had attached myself on an assignment too much.  A man weakened by a woman is the weakest man of all.  This woman had given me a life I craved for but denied myself.  And I had allowed her to touch me in such ways that no other being had ever possessed me. It was a sin.  And I had to pay the price.

            I sat staring at her picture from my monitor when the sensei's voice broke my train of non-thought.  I hadn't noticed him enter the dorm.

            "In demise?"

            "Not a big one," I replied scrolling down the page to avoid looking at her eyes.  The vibrant color of rubies.  Despising the fact that my guardian had caught me unaware.

            He stood behind me and commanded that I scroll the page up to her image.  I obeyed having nothing more to argue.

            "She seems to mesmerize you," he said.

            "How could you know anything like that?"  I asked.

            "I know more things than you think I do, Syaoran," 

            I decided not to disagree, "Granted that I am, is that a problem?"

            "To me? No," he answered, "but to you.  That's another thing."

            I didn't answer.  Through the years I studied in the Institute he had fostered me, and his counsel was one of the few things I valued.  Living the kind of life that I lead, his guidance was the only thing that both kept me grounded and sane.

            "She is an assignment, Syaoran," he pointed evenly, "and the cardinal rule is to never get involved with assignments.  The reason the Institute gave you this assignment is to test your commitment on your work.  We hold some people's destiny in our hands.  It's the path we lead.  They may or they may not deserve untimely deaths.  But that isn't our predicament any longer."

            The words stung.  Never before had he reprimanded me of failing, because he had said that I had the drive.  And being driven makes me succeed.  Hearing him say these meant he had seen me begin to loose the motivation I had to do my job.  He hadn't mentioned it, but I had failed him.

            And it was in that moment I remembered my vow.  This vow I keep was what leads me to this life.  And to keep it meant I had to sacrifice the woman.  I resolved to do it in that moment.  And with two words I assured the sensei.

            "I understand."

-

            I surprised her two days later.  I knew that she usually spent her Sunday afternoon indoors.  Sipping lemonade and reading a book while the world worries away.  I knew she would never answer her door on this occasions so I entered through the kitchen window that connected to the fire escape.  

            I watched her unobtrusively for while.  Fascinated by the way she held the book on her right hand as she twists a lock of jet-black hair on the other.  I palmed the dagger hidden beneath my coat debating whether to leave it by the windowsill and commit this crime another time.  I had half the mind to drew it from its hiding place when she looked up from what she was reading.  She smiled profusely as she laid the book on the coffee table.  

            How does a man kill this woman?

            I stepped out of the shadows, "I didn't want to disturb you."

            "You could have yelled that it was you," she patted the couch beside her motioning me to sit, "I could have answered it."

            "You don't answer doors on Sundays."

            "Unless it's you."

            God forgive me for doing it, but I couldn't help myself.  I still despise myself for allowing it to happen that way.  But it was because of her eyes.  Those beautiful rubies that had forsaken me.  It was the glowing fire of her eyes that drove me to it.

            Slowly, I drew her to me.  Without anything but the will to share the fire she carried, I allowed myself to be swayed and to be taken.  I took her in my arms inhaling the tangy scent of her cologne.  In my mind was a picture of indistinct lucidity.  The kind of oxymoron that never fails to justify both rights and wrongs.  

            I took her with the sense of abandon that I never carried for fear of never succeeding.  All sense of good judgment evaded me.   I was not the assassin.  I was not orphaned boy with a promise to keep.  I was just a man sharing a moment with someone who saw the part of me I kept hidden beneath a skin of hatred.

            Taking her made me belong to a realm of belonging.  The place where I don't feel like a shadow.  It was in this small moment of glory that I saw my burning.  And it was in this moment of burning that I saw a vision of my mother's murderer.  His masked face looming over the lithe frame of my Okaasan.  

            _'Where is the heir apparent?'_

_            'He is not here.'_

_            'You bitch should know better than to lie.'_

My mother.  

_            'Best tell where your son is, woman, before I decide to really hurt you.'_

_            'I would rather die than give my son to you.'_

_            'Then die it is.'_

            "No!!!"

            I drew the dagger and struck the faceless man, his face sneering at me.  In rage, I twisted the knife buried within his flesh.  His mask gave a horrifying laugh and in that moment I saw Meilin.  My hand on the dagger that struck her on the liver.  Blood, dark and pungent leaked through the blade.  She staggered back as she tried to hold onto the fibers of life she treasured.  I stood stunned as she stumbled.  I had killed the soul that shared with me her life.  She laid down, lifeless, her ruby eyes broken.

-

            Watching the transition from day to night had brought back the bitter past.  I have struggled to move on since, but still…  

            I now try to commit myself to another vow.  

To not make the same mistake twice.

-to be continued-

**Rai:** Forgive me for the months I chose to not update.  My life has been a complete comic act for the past months.  And I have been busy trying to be a life form.  Sadly, I have commitments for the next couple of months.  So I cannot promise an update anytime soon.  I am not pulling out this material, don't worry.  It'll probably just take some amount of patience.  That amount would be from you, of course.  Any reactions about this chapter and my sort-of hiatus is welcomed.


	7. Disillusioned

DISCLAIMER: CCS does not belong to me.  Characters were used without permission.  Succeeding fiction is a non-profit article.  

RAI: I have taken an amount of time to update, true.  If I explained myself, it really wouldn't matter much anymore.  There is a notice in my bio though that you people might want to read.

The Assignment

V:  Disillusioned

-

            Sakura woke up and realized she was stupid.  Stupid for a number of things.  Stupid for stalking a stranger.  Stupid for having demented illusions of that stranger.  Stupid for imagining senseless things about the same stranger.

            The whole Li Syaoran episode has plagued her thoughts from time to time.  Up until this morning, she hadn't realized that she had been grandly disillusioned.  And that fact was disturbing.

            True, she was attracted to the man.  Her compulsive reaction to him defies logical reasoning.  He was, after all, an attractive person.  She wasn't the only girl on campus who held an appraising torch for the stoic stranger.  Twice, she had overheard women talking about the gorgeous new student in the engineering department-his course-the one with amber eyes and who always seemed aloof.  She wasn't alone in this obsession.

            But that was the disturbing part.  Petty crushes have never affected her this way before.  She had never believed in love at first sight or cosmic imbalances.  She was far more level-headed than that.  But her emotions have runaway ahead of her this time.

            She mentally looked back at the past days that she have been obsessing with her stolid knight in shinning ego-as Tomoyo so well placed it-and inwardly grimaced at her stupidity.  The lengths she'd gone and the things she did were embarassingly hopeless.  The way she oggled at him at the parking lot and the library made her feel like an insipid dwit.  

            Groaning, she went out of bed and padded her way towards the kitchen.   Tomoyo had an early morning class on Mondays and she knew she's be waking up in an empty dorm room.  Half-awake, she reached for a bowl and the box of cereals.  Methodically, she filled her bowl with her breakfast.  Mouthing spoonfuls of cereal, her mind drifted again to her graceless behaviour the past days.

            'Why' had been a uestion she had long given up on asking.  There didn't seem to be any logical explanation for her obsession.  He was a mystery she wanted to solve.  So much so that the want accelerated to a need.  A craving.

            Was she…

            Impossoble.  Such things were neurotical and applies only to the hopeless romantics who were only bitten by the sad facts of reality later on.  Love at first sight was nothing more than a destructive attraction.  Love wasn't supposed to be foreboding.  She was definitely not in love.

            "Come on, Kinomoto," she muttered to herself, "you're smarter than this."

            Finishing her cereal, she dumped the bowl in the sink and headed towards the bathroom.  She lifted her head, as if clearing it away of an offensive thought, her footsteps falling assertive. 

            Kinomoto Sakura wasn't a delusional person.  And Li Syaoran wasn't the man who was going to make her one.

-

            She came like sunshine.  Exactly the way he had seen her in the parking lot.  Bright and warm.  Her prescence brought memories of spring mornings.  Fresh and dewy.  She was laughing at something her companion was saying when she entered the chemistry laboratory.  The sound of her laughter was like church bells on Christmas.  Festive.

            But he was not disillusioned.

            There was something about her today.  A sparked courage.  A confidence he sa before he had rescued her in the parking lot.  A confidence she lost everytime she came to notice his prescence.

            But not today.

            She saw him watching her when she entered.  And unlike the blushing school girl he had grown accustomed to last week, she hardly gave him an acknowledging nod before she took the seat next to her friend's.

            'Amusing.'

            The little wolf wondered where and how this courage ressurected.  Somehow, he seemed compelled to her even more now.

            But he was definitely not disillusioned.

            The classroom chatter subsided when Motoki-sensei entered the laboratory.

            "I have checked your evaluation tests and I have based upon the results the pairings I have listed here," he extracted a piece of paper from his folio, "this pairings will be effective for the whole term.  Unless you have any objections, which I expect to hear today, there will be no changing of partners."

            The sensei began enumerating the list of pairs he has made.  Syaoran was not listening.  He was watching his assignment unobtrusively.  He had seen the paper.  He had known the results.  He was waiting for the reaction.

            The sensei finali mentioned the names he was waiting for.

            "Kinomoto Sakura and Li Syaoran."

-

            Sakura froze.  The neme of the partner assigned to her for the whole term ringing in her ears.

            "Li Syaoran."

            Just when she's decided to get over her obsession, fate decides to screw up her plan in a grand scale.

            'Compose yourself.  This is no big deal.'

            She breathed once.  Then twice.  Then thrice.  She was going to get through this without any embarassing scenarios again.

            Motoki-sensei finished reading the list, "Any objections?"  the class was silent, "I expect you to be with your respective partners in fifteen seconds.  Starting now."

            The class scrambled about.  Sakura stayed seated.  He was the guy.  He ought to be the one to approach her.  But Li Syaoran wasn't exactly the gentleman type.  And although he knew her, they have never exchanged names or have been formally introduced.

            Now who was going to sit with whom?

            Sakura counted the seconds.

            One.

            Two.

            Three.

            Four.

            Five.

            Most of the class was already in pairs.  Hers hadn't found her yet.  He obviously can't put a name to a face.

            Breathing deeply, she stood up and turned.  Lis Syaoran sat languidly on his chair watching her approach.  A condescending look on his face.

            "Li Syaoran?" she inferred.

            "Kinomoto."

            "Guess we're stuck together for the term," she shrugged.

            He nodded impassively at her and didn't say anything else.

            "Is this seat taken?" she asked.

            He didn't respond.  She hates his guts.  She took the liberty to take the seat beside him and placed her books on the lab table between them.

            Irked by his non-response, she decided to give him a piece of her mind.  She wasn't good ar Chemistry.  But she intended to pass the general elective.  And his superiority complex towards her couldn't possibly help her in this subject.

            She gritted her teeth and said with enough spite, "you don't have to be so fucking condescending, you know."

-

            He was still reveling at her nearness, trying his damnable hardest to regain control.  This was an assignment.  You don't make mistakes on assignment.

            But his subject was even more compelling now than she ever was.  She was fascinating him greatly.  Something he couldn't ignore.

            This was the thought in his mind as he avoided his gaze from the woman seated beside him when she spoke in an irritated tone.

            "You don't have to be so fucking condescending, you know."

            He turned towards her slowly and the look of fire he saw in her eyes almost extracted a smile from him, "I beg your pardon?"

            "I'm not as stupid as you think I am," she said vehemently, controlling the rise of her voice, "if you don't want me for your lab partner, you can just say so and I can trade with someone you find more suitable."

            She stared at him angrily.

            Marvelous.

            Li Syaoran decided he likes the Kinomoto more when she was angry.  Her eyes couldn't possible turn into a deeper shade of green.  Like sparkling emeralds.

            He almost smiled.  Almost.  Instead he met her gaze and answered her sincerely, "I have no complaints."

            She stared at him.  Her forehead slightly creased.  Then she abruptly turned her gaze towards the sensei, her cheeks tinted pink.

            The little wolf couldn't help it.  He had to smile.

-

            Afternoon of the same day, after her class, Tomoyo entered the mall with a list in her hand.  She needed materials for a project in one of her subjects.  A Clothing Technology student majoring in Fashion Designing, her materials were going to be taken from the textile department.

            But before that, she headed towards the ladies' room.  She had too much iced tea from lunch caused by Sakura's latest tale regarding the elusive Li Syaoran.

            Fate itself commenced a plan to set them up.  She found the idea both strange and humorous.  But she couldn't possibly laugh now.  Her bladder was going to give up on her.

            Turning the corner towards the comfort rooms, she nearly collided with a maintenance person in her rush.  But the man in the blue jumpsuit had been cautious and had stopped in time.  

            "Gomenasai," she bowed profusely, apologizing.

            The man merely tipped his hat and stepped aside to let her pass.

            She grinned sheepishly before she darted towards the ladies' lavatory.

            Only when she was already making her way towards the textile department did she note that there seemed to be something familiar about the man.  The cleaning personnel.  But she doesn't know much men who wears a moustache.  Come to think of it, she doesn't know any man who wears a moustache other than her grandfather.  And her grandfather died two years ago.  

            She shrugged it off thinking it was just someone who resembles her grandfather.  Or someone else she knew.

-

            After nearly colliding with Tomoyo, the maintenance man rode the service elevator towards the top floor of the building.  The personnel department of the mall.  Pushing a cleaning cart, he whistled his way towards the maintenance section.  

            A minute later, a moustached man in a suit emerged from the room, securing his tie.  He looked like any other executive head moving around the floor.  Employees who didn't recognize him assumed he was head of some department or a franchise owner.

            He passed by the lounge room where the secretary of the accounting director was taking a coffee break that would last for ten minutes.  All calls for the accounting director would be on hold for ten minutes.

            No one saw him enter the office of the accounting head.

            The director lifted his head and was surprised to see the stranger he didn't even notice neter.

            "Who are you?" he asked.

            The man gave him a small seraphic smile as he withdrew the .25 Walther from his coat, "the Angel of Death."

            Two short gunshots were fired, their sounds omitted by the silencer on the weapon.  One on the head and one on the heart.

            He checked his watch.  Seven more minutes.  Plenty of time.

            He walked towards the bookcase and withdrew a leather bound book by Victor Hugo.  Les Miserables.  He opened it to reveal a miniature oil canvass of a Victorian lady.  Turning the miniature over, he fingered the meatal frame.  He wasn't worried about fingerprints.  The ones he was wearing would lead nowhere.  Using his nails, he traced the edges of the frame.  Slowly, he lifted a thin film, something that could be mistaken for a simple plasitc covering.  The film, when rinsed in parenteral solution would reveal a Swiss account number and its details*.  He took a small case in his coat and placed the film in it.  Then closing the lid, he returned the case in his coat.  He placed everything back where it was, except the cadaver sitting on the swivel chair.

            He left the room as inobtrusively as he went in.  No one noticed.

            On the way towards the fire exit, he took off his jacket and moustache and dropped them in the garbage bag of the maintenance man walking towards the opposite direction.  He muttered, "The weather is nice,"

            An Institute code.  Weather meaning the assignment.  And nice, meaning dead.

            The maintenance personnel whistled as he walked towards the service elevator.  It took him to the basement parking where a cleaners van was waiting for him.

            In the personnel department, three minutes later, the accounting director's secretary knocked on her employer's door.  When he didn't answer, she dedecided to get in.  then she screamed.

            At the same time, on the first floor, wearing a blue shirt and black cargo shorts, Li Syaoran was choosing between a Merriam-Webster and an Oxford Thesaurus.

-to be continued-

* A figment of my imagination.  No such thing exists. Unless my imagination proves more true than even I thought.  As for the silencer on the Walther, I'm not really sure Walthers have silencers.  I just read it in Glamorama.  Cool novel.  

RAI: I'm not sure when the next will be updated.  All  I know is that this thing is making a life of it's own.it would pleasure me to hear your remarks.


	8. Curious

**Rai****:** I have finally updated.  My apologies for letting all of you wait and for dragging this fic for over a year.  Jeez, it has been a year, hasn't it? Don't worry, I'll try updating more frequently. Well, I'll try…

-                         

**The Assignment**

**vi****: Curious**

-

Carrying her package, Tomoyo made her way through the parking lot.  She had successfully bought everything she needed and now looked forward to a quiet dinner at the dorm.  The day had been a bit strenuous, but it was productive, nevertheless

She was halfway towards her destination when she noticed two men walking towards the sedan parked next to her BMW.  She sensed something familiar about the guy in the blue shirt.  It must be someone from school.  Only when he turned sideways to open the driver's side did she realize who he was.

Li Syaoran.

-

Syaoran was aware of being watched.  But he couldn't care less.  It was just the Kinomoto's friend.  True, he had nearly collided with her in the mall. But with his disguise, she'd have a hard time placing him as the maintenance personnel.  He had even changed his gait.

But Hiirigizawa Eriol was fascinated.  He watched the doll-faced woman surveying his companion.  She was no real threat.  He knew her fascination spurred from her friend's crush on the little wolf.  She was as amusing as his friend's assignment.  They were both womanly naïve.  Cute, but weak.

-

Tomoyo felt someone watching her and instinctively turned towards the other man.  Li Syaoran's companion was looking at her with a bemused expression.  The dark haired man smiled at her behind his glasses before he slipped into the passenger seat.

A loud warning sound broke through her thoughts as an ambulance entered the parking lot and parked next to the service elevator.  Four paramedics went out carrying a stretcher.  Another breaking sound followed and two police cars entered.  She frowned at the scene unfolding before her.  If she were watching a movie, she'd deduce that this was a crime scene investigation.  But where was the crime scene?

She suddenly remembered Li Syaoran and his companion.  She abruptly turned towards the direction of her car.  But the slot beside it was now empty.

-

The black Acura eased through the rush hour traffic of Tomoeda.  Inside, Eriol unwrapped Syaoran's purchase.  He cocked an eyebrow at the man behind the wheel when he saw the Merriam-Webster.

"A thesaurus?"

The driver refused to respond to his companion's mocking tone.  He had other things on his mind.  The short message was done.  His film was already surrendered.  What bothered him was his wired message.  His surveillance was supposed to run for only two weeks.  It has been four days since he began with the Kinomoto.  Normally, this perennial state wouldn't bother him at all. He attracted her like moth to a fire.  That much he knew.  But her temper today had amused him.  And that reaction now bothered him.

She was so much like Meilin.  In an endearing sort of way.  They both had the one thing he secretly craved but couldn't have.  A life free of burdening guilt.  He knew it was part of the price he had to pay in exchange for the life he chose.  Because to men like him, life and living no longer mattered that much.  As the sensei had said, we do not regret the things we decide to do for the things we believe in.

Eriol's perpetually jovial voice cut through his train of thought, "You know, your assignment;s friend seems to be curious."

"I would prefer if you just say exactly what you intend to say, Hiirigizawa," the quiet wolf said as he cut through lanes easily. 

Eriol beamed and stated flatly, "You ought to be careful with her."

Syaoran maneuvered the car towards the student parking lot of the Nobu dorm, "I guess what you're trying to say is, she should be careful with you."

Eriol nodded towards the empty space between a Ford and a Honda, "You could be right."

Syaoran steered the Acura cleanly into the vacant space and gunned the engine.  He shrugged as he yanked the key from the ignition.

Eriol smiled wanly at him, "Nice parking."

-

Entering the dorm room she shared with Sakura, Tomoyo's face was masked with disorientation.  Now, more than ever, she had the indistinct feeling that something was not quite right.  Something was odd.  Something, she somehow always felt in regards to the peculiar Li Syaoran.  

From what she gathered around campus, the neurotic Li Syaoran wasn't exactly the amiable type.  Most people around campus had their own group or social circles.  Everyone had their respective organizations where they troupe with people sharing their interest.  Sakura was part of the theater and the track and field team.  Tomoyo herself has two organizations, the design club and the media org.  Being part of the media org, she knew of all the other organizations on campus, legit or non-legit.  She also happen to know at least a member from each of those organizations.  And none of those she knew has ever mentioned having Li Syaoran as an added member to their org.

It must be premature to wonder too much.  After all, the term has just started, and maybe Syaoran hasn't decided which org to belong to.  But still…

"I didn't notice you come in," Sakura's voice came through her introspection.

She smiled wanly, "What's for dinner?"

"Cafeteria food," her best friend replied, "If you're up to it."

"Sure," she shrugged as she dropped the bags on her bed, "it's too late to go wandering outside campus anyway."

"I'll just freshen up," Sakura said as she entered the bathroom.

Tomoyo wondered if she should tell Sakura about the incident at the mall.  Then decided against it.  Her friend didn't need any more news about the man.  

Which reminded her of Li Syaoran's companion.  Another odd factor in the whole situation.  He was another new face.  If he was with Syaoran, he must then know him.  If he was from campus, maybe he could answer questions about his friend that continued to mystify her.  From the way the stranger with the glasses looked, he seemed to be around their age.  And granted this, he must be studying in the college as well.  If she could only find him.  

"Ready?"

She turned to her friend who was getting her bag from her night table. She nodded and opened the door to get out.

Tomorrow she'll start scouting for the man behind the glasses.  If she could talk to him, he might be able to shed light to her queries.  

-to be continued

**Rai****:** That's it.  By the way, if you wish to be informed about my updates and you don't particularly like visiting my blog, you can just leave your email addy on your review so I can send you mail when I get the chance to update.  When I do…


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